Jax Beach Terror
by DylanMadison
Summary: An incapable hero, haunted by his inaction.


The large dorsal fin broke through the moonlit water. The only disturbance in an otherwise smooth, glass surface. Robert Jordan, fighting to stay awake, watched from the lifeguard stand. The fin moved erect from his left to right.

 _It's not submerging, as a dolphin's would._

He lit a cigarette.

 _No that's a shark fin. And Christ that's big for round here!_

Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. His eyes focused on the fish's movement. He awakened.

The night started some hours ago with rum runners in an outdoor bar with a beach view. He switched gears with craft beer at the cigar lounge. Then, as usual, he descended to a stupor with Yager Bombs and PBR at the pool hall dive.

At some point he ate the acid. During the cigar. When exactly he couldn't be sure. It was open mic at the Island Girl lounge. A local man had discovered an identity covering Cat Stevens. His friend Jonathan, _God it's always Jonathan_ , got into a music trance and demanded that the drinking shift to a binge. After the fourth, maybe fifth beer, he gave Robert that wink and nod that instructed him to follow his steps to the parking lot. It was either coke, molly, or LSD. Robert approached his friend in an appropriate dark place. Jonathan took out his wallet and ripped off four tabs, two each. In 45-minutes they were frightened of Island Girl.

After an unknown time of color swishing, table pulsing, light chasing billiards at Pete's Bar, Robert tried to find the meaning of life looking out at the water. The ocean had profound energy, but no meaning. He obsessed on the light streak in the dark water mass, wishing the feeling would last.

But the drinks took hold. He tired. All that remained was to admire the great fin, pacing methodically right to left, left to right.

 _Magnificent._

His eyes closed.

A couple stammered on the beach. They were boisterous, and made generic remarks about "how amazing the beach is at night!"

Robert's eyes opened. The girl was a few inches taller and wore blue boat shoes. She was loud, moving with purpose to the water. The short man followed her, kicking his flipflops off in the sand.

 _Poor bastard. She's clearly not looking for intimacy. Poor fool._

They waded shin deep. Robert watched them, amused.

"The water is great" she shouted.

"I know!"

 _He would agree with anything._ Robert smirked.

She was knee deep. He followed.

 _I should tell them of the shark._

He pondered a moment. In his state he did not enjoy engaging strangers.

He studied the couple. Her white pants soaked. The man, helpless, following after her. A wave crashed at her thighs, splashing up to her top. Her breasts outlined through her light blue shirt, so far removed from the idea of intimacy that she didn't notice. The rush of water and night sky consumed her beyond any acknowledgment of the man with her, or anything else in her surroundings.

Robert scanned the water. The fin couldn't be seen. He was sure that it hadn't left.

The girl, now waist deep, implored the man to swim out with her.

"No, we need to head back. Sharks feed at night."

"You're too uptight!"

 _I have to tell them._

"Hey!" He shouted. They didn't hear.

He placed his foot on the cross-beam of the stand and turned his body to face the lights of Pete's Bar. His hands shook. Robert wasn't good at this task when sober.

 _Focus. Focus._

He reached his foot to the side beam that stuck in the sand. The sole of his shoe made contact just as his hands lost grip of the seat. His chin slammed on the wood and he fell flat on his back. Dull pain, growing more severe, settled in his back and head, spreading to his extremities. He tilted his head back in the sand and reached to his chin and lip.

 _Yeap, that's blood._

Gazing upon the stars he forfeited the rescue mission.

 _Surely they know better than to swim at night._

He lost consciousness.

The waves crashed at Brandon's waist. All night he plotted to get alone with Kayla. He succeeded, but didn't imagine it would be like this. The black sky, black water, save for the glow from the moon. The mysteries that the darkness concealed.

 _Doesn't she know better than to swim at night?_

Kayla swam deeper, impervious to Brandon. Against better judgement, he swam to her.

"I love the way the moon lights the water in that straight line". He pointed.

She nodded.

"Everything else is black, as far as you can see, but that gold line from the moon."

She smiled, then ducked her head under the water, submerging up with a forceful jump.

"Dude, can you touch the ground here?" She asked, sizing him up with the depth of the water.

Brandon extended his feet, reaching out with the end of his big toe. It graced the sandy bottom.

"Of course!"

She smirked, and dove back under the water. He backed away a few feet, in no general direction, tilting his head in defeat.

 _I may as well drown._

He paused to look for her. No sign. The ache of rejection compelled him to swim to the beach, but he couldn't yet surrender. He turned to look at the lights from Pete's Bar, then back to the sea.

 _Where is she?_ He thought, curious and desperate for a reason to stay.

Kayla's face popped out of the water near his right shoulder, splashing in his face.

"You gotta dive down in this man. Try to keep your eyes open!"

Brandon obliged. It wasn't the attention he yearned for, but he'd take whatever he could get. He'd do anything she asked.

His eyes lit ablaze when he opened them. He pressed his eyelids tight to quell the pain. Eyes closed, he did his best to endure but the dive wasn't long. The burning was intolerable. He sprang to the surface, turning his back so she couldn't see him wiping his eyes in discomfort.

"Yeah, that was great!" He faced her.

"I love that you do crazy stuff like this. Swimming in the ocean at night, not changing clothes or anything. It's the kind of stuff I'm not comfortable doing with others. But with you it's different."

A warm joy shot through his limbs.

 _But with me it's different. But with me it's different. But with me it's different._

"Sure thing!" He said.

He paddled idly, basking in the glow of possibilities.

The good feeling was interrupted by an unusual force of current that pressed his side. It wasn't a riptide, or any common ocean force. This was … _different_.

A fear grew in him, but he wasn't sure why. He looked to the sky, to the water. Nothing could be seen in the darkness that justified the strange current.

"I think we should head back."

She shook her head no.

"Just to where it's knee deep."

"You can if you want man, I'm going to stay out here awhile."

He couldn't bring himself to leave. He swam to her.

Kayla's head dropped under the surface. Brandon surveyed the vast dark sea. It felt an ominous desolation when he couldn't see her.

She bounced up from the water.

"Did you feel that?" She asked.

"What?"

"Something jagged…"

She reached down her leg, feeling a sharp point where her shin protruded from what remained of her limb.

"Oh my God." She said calmly. The reality of her situation yet realized.

"What?!"

"Oh MY…"

She sank below the surface midway through a guttural scream. Brandon thrust towards her with heroic intent.

A moment passed. He felt a swirling, violent current.

She emerged, gasping, reaching for his shoulders. She fell below before he could grab her.

 _What's happening?_

He didn't want to know the answer.

A warmth spread in the water.

 _Dear God that's Kayla's blood!_

Brandon wasn't sure how he knew, but there was no denying it in his mind.

Panic stricken, he flailed his arms to swim back to shore. His mind raced. _Is there anything I could do for her? Anything? No dear God no!_ He thrashed, swimming with forceful thrusts, kicking his arms and legs.

The vibrations from his movements shown to the fish as clear as the moon in the night sky. The fish waved its tail, propelling it to the new target.

Brandon looked to the lights on the beach, then to a lifeguard stand. His eyes drew to a man who appeared to be passed out on the sand. This gave him an odd sense of comfort, of familiarity to the Neptune Beach life. _Focus, swim goddammit!_ A wave crashed over, surrounding him in darkness.

He rose above the ocean surface, lifted with a force he couldn't explain. For a moment he looked upon the beach lights and felt like a child on a carnival ride. Then he plunged below the surface, sharp knives cutting through his torso. His mouth opened to scream, water filled his lungs.

He would never again see the lights of Neptune Beach.

The fish swam out to sea.

Robert's eyes slit open. The red, blue, and orange hues of the sky signaled sunrise.

 _It's not night anymore. Time to leave._

He tried to sit up, but did not have the abdominal strength. Dull, at times throbbing, pain settled in his spine and shoulder blades.

 _Right, the lifeguard stand._ He touched the underside of his arms, neck, and head, discovering he was covered in sand. _Well, this might be a new low_.

He mustered the strength to roll to his side, using his arms to lift his torso to a sitting position. The calm water reflected the tri-color light of the early morning. The first wave of joggers and cyclists passed in each direction. Robert felt a degenerate.

 _What happened to my lip?_

His tongue slid across the dry wound.

 _Right, the lifeguard stand!_ He laughed.

Then he remembered the mission undertook that led to the injury.

 _Those swimmers!_

His eyes focused on the blue boat shoes and sandals.

 _You don't think?..._

He sprang to his feet, wobbling at first, but managing to balance. He looked down on the shoes, hoping to discover a course of action. A second, thorough, scan of the water did not reveal the swimmers.

 _That giant fucking shark! No way._

His eyes scanned left and right. Runners, cyclists, and a metal detector guy, that was it.

He dusted the sand off his arms, shirt and neck.

 _Should I do something? What if it's still out there?_

He walked to the beach ramp mulling his options. He wasn't one to voluntarily interact with authority figures, but his inaction may have already gotten two people hurt, or worse.

His eyes caught the glowing sign of Gina's Diner. It was the only place open where one in his condition could get a cup of coffee without questions or stares. He ducked in to the men's room and looked in the mirror, splashing water to clean the sand off his lip wound.

 _It's not that bad._

He sat at the bar counter and ordered a cup of coffee. _What's protocol in a situation like this?_ He studied the mug for an answer.

The patrons embodied a life of Neptune Beach he didn't often see. Elderly folks, discussing neighborhood gossip and their displeasure with the temperature and freshness of the coffee.

He pulled out his phone and launched Facebook. Anything to distract from the current environment. Three friends had shared a report from OCEARCH Shark Tracker that a 20-foot great white had been spotted off the coast of Neptune Beach. His eyes locked on the feed, a jolt of guilt spread through his limbs. One friend added the comment "Dun dun, Dun dun, Dun dun dun dun…"

Robert exited the app and searched "neptune beach police". His hand shook, sipping his brew, making no observation to its temperature or freshness.


End file.
